In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

Chapter 104, Section 103: Unsealing the Old Wine, Ushering in a New Era for Families

Zhang Xiuying was currently basking in immense happiness and the compliments of her neighbors, feeling as if she were floating on clouds, and finding everyone pleasing to the eye.

She responded with a smile, displaying the magnanimity of a victor:

"Thank you all! Congratulations to you all! A close neighbor is worse than a distant relative; I'll need your help in the future!"

He Caiyun managed to say a few more auspicious words like "bright future" and "rising step by step," but then she couldn't hold on any longer.

She felt the muscles in her face were so stiff they were about to crack, and that fake smile was about to collapse at any moment.

She grabbed Zhao Tiemin's arm and practically dragged him out of the crowd, saying dismissively:

"Let's go upstairs first, there are still some things to take care of inside..."

Her steps were hurried, as if she were fleeing a plague-stricken area, as if staying even a second longer would suffocate her from the jubilant air and pungent aroma of meat downstairs.

Closing the creaking, cardboard-thin balcony door finally shut out the noise from downstairs.

The carefully crafted fake smile on He Caiyun's face vanished instantly, collapsing and turning a ghastly, twisted expression. Her chest heaved violently, like a burst bellows.

"Pooh!"

She spat fiercely at the peeling paint on the door, her voice low but sharp, like a viper's hiss, filled with resentment and deep-seated jealousy:

"What's with the attitude? You're just a nouveau riche with the air of a petty tycoon! What's so great about being a secretary? You think you can act all high and mighty just because you get thirty yuan a month?"

Hmph! Braised duck hock...

Look at his house. He's usually so frugal, always stretching every penny to the limit. How can he suddenly produce so much meat? You're kidding me!

Who knows where they got this shady stuff from! It's shady stuff! Be careful they don't catch you in jail! You'll be in deep trouble!

She grew angrier as she spoke, her chest tightening and aching. She grabbed a rag from the drying platform and slammed it against the door with a loud "thud."

Zhao Tiemin sat hunched over at the rickety little square table, his head bowed.

He pulled out the cheapest "Production Brand" cigarette from the crumpled cigarette box, and it took him several matches to light it. The pungent smoke from the cheap tobacco instantly swirled around him, making his already dull and gloomy face even more indistinct.

Through the smoke, only his muffled voice, as if squeezed out from underground, could be heard:

"Say less... loose lips sink ships... he's a cadre now... someone close to the factory leaders... don't cause trouble..."

"Cadres? What kind of cadres are you talking about!"

He Caiyun's voice suddenly rose, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, then she realized she couldn't be too loud, so she forced it down, her voice filled with a sob and boundless jealousy, every word dripping with sourness:

"When will our family ever be able to eat a whole braised duck? When will we never have to worry about oil and meat coupons again? How did he manage to do that? How did he get so lucky? He rose to the top overnight!"
How many years have we ironworkers worked as stevedores at the factory? Ten years! A full ten years!
Working from dawn till dusk, covered in grease and sweat! And earning less than forty yuan a month! God is truly blind! It's so unfair!

She watched her husband's silent, hunched back in the smoke, looked at the cramped, low, and bare three-story house, and then thought about the aroma of meat and laughter that would soon waft from the Yang family downstairs. The huge psychological gap wrapped around her heart like a poisonous vine, tightening its grip.

She continued to angrily and pointlessly pound the innocent rag, venting her overwhelming resentment and injustice.

Inside the Yang family's front building, however, a completely different atmosphere was present—a tremendous joy, like a warm golden tide, filled every corner.

Once the heavy door closed, it seemed to shut out the noise and complex thoughts of the outside world, leaving only family members connected by blood and pure celebration inside.

Zhang Xiuying carefully placed the glossy, tempting braised duck and four heavy, plump pork hocks on the peeling paint table, her movements as gentle as if she were displaying some rare treasure.

Under the dim light of a 15-watt incandescent bulb, the alluring deep brown and bright red hues, along with the rich and intense aroma of braised meat, transformed the small, originally modest room into a grand festive setting, filling the air with a comforting and abundant atmosphere.

Yang Guanghui stood by the table, holding his son Zhuangzhuang in his arms.

Zhuangzhuang stared with his big, dark eyes at the shiny, strangely fragrant "big guys" on the table, reaching out his little hands and babbling as he tried to touch them, but Yang Guanghui smiled and gently stopped him.

The look in his eyes as he gazed at his younger brother, Yang Guangming, was filled with pure, unadulterated envy and joy—the most genuine satisfaction of an older brother seeing his younger brother succeed.

"Mingming, you're amazing! You're so tough! Now our family has finally made something of itself! Mom and Dad have suffered half their lives, but we've finally made it!"

His honest smile revealed a genuine sense of relief and ease, as if his younger brother's success had also relieved him, the eldest son, of some of the invisible burden.

Li Guihua was so busy she barely had time to breathe, her face beaming with joy, like a sunflower in full bloom.

She kept muttering to herself, her voice slightly trembling with excitement:
"Thirty yuan! Thirty yuan! Good heavens! We are clearly capable and promising!"
Mom, look at this pork hock! Wow, how thick the skin is! How white the fat is! It's so shiny and tender, falling off the bone, and smells amazing!

Today we're also getting half a braised duck for cold appetizer! Plus braised pork with tofu knots and dried tofu! Scrambled eggs! Bok choy! And unlimited steamed buns!

She couldn't wait to start planning every detail of this grand feast, and every dish name resonated with happiness.

Father Yang Yongkang sat on the old square stool against the wall, the one he had sat on for half his life, silently smoking his self-rolled "trumpet pipe" cigarette.

The burning of inferior tobacco leaves emitted acrid, pungent smoke that swirled around his weathered, deeply lined face.

His face, usually so serious and almost rigid, as if life had worn away all expression, now had much softer lines, like frozen soil thawing in a warm breeze.

He took a deep drag on his cigarette, his gaze slowly sweeping over the pile of meat on the table, a symbol of wealth and rising status.

Finally, the gaze lingered deeply and for a long time on the youngest son, Yang Guangming's, young, composed face, which was filled with joy yet remained reserved.

His gaze was as complex as a thick book: there was shock, scrutiny, and inquiry, but more than anything, there was a heavy, indescribable sense of relief and pride, as well as a sense of reassurance that "there are successors."

He didn't speak, but only subtly, almost imperceptibly, twitched the corner of his mouth upwards.

This tiny movement, on his perpetually taut face, was like a crack appearing on a frozen river, revealing the warm, flowing water beneath.

This was the ultimate expression of his joy.

Seeing her husband's unusually gentle expression, Zhang Xiuying was overjoyed and her heart was filled with happiness.

As if recalling some crucial ritual, she strode to the corner of the room to the lacquered, brass-locked chest of drawers.

She took out a small key that she kept close to her body, inserted it into the lock of the bottom drawer, and it clicked softly.

She rummaged around in the depths of the drawer for a while, and solemnly and carefully took out a dark brown, dusty glass bottle—it was a bottle of Qibao Daqu liquor that had been treasured for who knows how many years, and whose label had become blurred and faded!

"Old man!"

Zhang Xiuying's voice carried excitement and a hint of unquestionable authority, as if she were announcing a major family decision.

She placed the wine bottle steadily on the table in front of Yang Yongkang.

"Today is such a joyous day, a once-in-a-lifetime occasion! Don't hide this bottle of old wine any longer! It's been stored away for so many years, waiting for this day! Open it! Open it! Let's all have a drink together as a family! Let's celebrate Mingming's success!"

Yang Yongkang's gaze fell on the dusty old wine bottle, and his eyes flickered slightly.

He bought this bottle of wine years ago with the meager overtime pay he had saved up from working overtime for half a month straight.

It has always been kept hidden away like a family heirloom, ready to be put to great use—perhaps for a son's wedding, perhaps for a daughter's marriage, or perhaps for a crucial moment that will determine the fate of the family.

At this moment, he looked at his wife's eager, shining eyes, at the pure joy radiating from his eldest son and daughter-in-law's faces, at his youngest son's tall figure and calm gaze, and at the abundant meat on the table, a symbol of wealth, hope, and upward mobility...

This bottle of wine seems to have finally found its perfect home.

He was silent for a few seconds, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Then, he nodded slowly and heavily. The movement was slow and firm, as if it carried a tremendous weight.

"Ah."

A simple syllable, yet it seems to contain a thousand words, a father's deepest approval and most unspoken blessing.

This word, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, instantly created huge ripples in the hearts of the family members.

"Oh my! Father's opening the wine!"

Li Guihua clapped her hands in surprise, her voice trembling. The existence of this bottle of wine was a semi-public secret in the family, but everyone knew its significance to her father-in-law, and no one had ever imagined seeing it opened today.

Yang Guangming smiled, a warm current surging through his heart.

He knew what this bottle of wine meant. It represented his father's silent, profound emotions, the most solemn expression of them all.

Zhang Xiuying and Li Guihua immediately sprang into action, like wind-up tops, in the cramped, stuffy kitchen.

The sounds of pots and pans clattering, water splashing, vegetables being chopped deftly, and oil sizzling in hot pans intertwine to create a cheerful, lively, and vibrant kitchen symphony.

Zhang Xiuying used a sharpened kitchen knife to chop the braised duck into evenly sized pieces. The dark brown, glossy duck skin wrapped around the distinctly textured dark red duck meat, which was neatly arranged on a white porcelain plate. The rich aroma of the sauce boldly proclaimed its presence.

Zhang Xiuying also lavishly took out a few eggs that she had saved for a long time, cracked them into a rough porcelain bowl, the golden yolks and transparent egg whites blended together, and quickly scrambled them with chopsticks. She then chopped a small handful of bright green scallions, preparing to stir-fry a plate of golden and fragrant scallion scrambled eggs.

She carefully picked out and washed the wilted, yellowed bok choy in the basket, and its vibrant green color revived in the water.

The precious wheat flour mixed with cornmeal was kneaded into dough, which fermented and expanded in an enamel basin, emitting an enticing wheat aroma, ready to be steamed into soft and fragrant steamed buns.

Yang Guangming and Yang Guanghui were also busy. Yang Guangming helped wipe the heavy table in the center of the room clean and set out the rough porcelain bowls and chopsticks that were washed white and had small chips on the edges.

Yang Guanghui held the excited Zhuangzhuang, keeping him away from the dangerous stove, coaxing him gently while he couldn't help but peek into the pot to look at the reheated pork hock, swallowing his saliva.

The small front building has limited space, so the square table was moved to the brightest spot in the center of the room.

Zhuangzhuang babbled excitedly in his father's arms, pointing with his little finger at the busy adults and the ever-increasing amount of food on the table, his mouth watering.

Yang Yongkang silently picked up the bottle of Qibao Daqu.

His large, calloused hands, with thick knuckles and stubborn black oil stains, firmly gripped the cool glass bottle, his fingers gently stroking the dusty label.

He walked to the table, and instead of using the bottle opener, he picked up the bottle neck and tapped it three times on the hard, weathered wooden edge of the table with a peculiar rhythm, neither too hard nor too soft.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

The sound wasn't loud, but it carried a peculiar, almost sacred sense of ritual, causing Zhang Xiuying and Li Guihua, who were busy in the kitchen, Yang Guanghui, who was holding Zhuangzhuang, and Yang Guangming, who was setting out the dishes, to subconsciously stop what they were doing, fall silent for a moment, and turn their gazes to him.

The bottle cap loosened with a click.

Yang Yongkang's calloused hands steadily and powerfully unscrewed the rusty metal bottle cap.

There was a soft "pop" sound.

Instantly, a rich, mellow aroma, unique to fermented grains, complex and fragrant, like a sleeping dragon awakening, forcefully dispelled the aroma of braised duck and meat in the air, filling the entire room!

This aroma is rich and layered, with the crispness of sorghum, the mellowness of wheat, and the lingering fragrance of time, carrying a warm, spicy, and slightly intoxicating power.

More than any meaty aroma, it symbolizes the extraordinary nature of this moment, the end of an old era and the beginning of a new one for this family.

He slowly poured the clear, slightly amber-colored liquor into several washed-white glasses with tiny chipped edges and a few shallow white porcelain cups.

His movements were steady and meticulous, the wine stream was drawn perfectly straight, and not a single drop spilled.

As the wine was poured in, its aroma became increasingly intense and permeated the air.

"Fill it all up today."

He said in a low voice, his tone leaving no room for argument. This was a celebration, a reward, a ritual; the glass had to be full.

Zhang Xiuying brought the last large bowl of glistening, reddish-brown braised pork hock, trembling slightly and coated in a thick sauce, to the table.

The trembling gelatinous layer, the deep red color of the meat, and the rich, domineering aroma of soy sauce, rock sugar, caramelized fat, and meat instantly ignited everyone's appetite, making it the undisputed star of this feast.

Beside it were dark brown, glossy duck pieces with a pungent aroma; golden scrambled eggs garnished with bright green scallions; emerald green stir-fried bok choy; and piled high white and yellow steamed buns exuding a rustic wheat fragrance.

The small, old wooden table was filled to the brim, so abundant it resembled an unreal, glossy dream, radiating a mesmerizing glow in this impoverished era.

Yang Yongkang sat down in the main seat.

Zhang Xiuying, Li Guihua, and Yang Guanghui sat around Zhuangzhuang and Yang Guangming, whose eyes were wide open in surprise.

A dim 15-watt light bulb hung overhead; the light wasn't bright, but it was enough to cast a warm, red glow on everyone's face.

The eyes of everyone shone with the flames of joy, satisfaction, and hope.

Yang Yongkang picked up the glass in front of him, which was filled to the brim and almost overflowing.

The clear liquid rippled gently inside, reflecting the fragments of light.

He glanced around at his family, his gaze lingering for a moment on his wife's beaming face, then sweeping over his eldest son's honest and content smile, lingering on his daughter-in-law's flushed face after her busy work, and finally resting on his grandson's innocent and curious eyes.

Finally, the deepest, deepest look fell on the youngest son, Yang Guangming's, young, composed face, a face that carried the hopes of the whole family.

That gaze was deep and complex, like an ancient well, ultimately transforming into a heavy, rock-solid certainty and a silent expectation.

His Adam's apple bobbed, as if he wanted to say something.

Want to talk about the hardships of this world? Want to talk about the rarity of these opportunities? Want to talk about the weight of these burdens? Want to talk about the hopes for the future? ...

A thousand words churned in my heart, but in the end, they all turned into the simplest, most sincere, and most profound toast.

His voice wasn't loud, even a little hoarse, but it clearly reached everyone's ears, like a heavy hammer striking their hearts:

"For Mingming... to be successful."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the food on the table and his grandson in his arms. A faint, yet undeniably genuine, longing for the future appeared on his usually stern face.

"For our family... to get better and better."

"cheers."

There were no flowery words, no unnecessary sentimentality.

These extremely brief words, like a promise brimming with immense power, express the full sentiments of a father, a husband, and a man who has experienced the vicissitudes of life.

"cheers!"

Zhang Xiuying responded immediately, her voice loud and clear, filled with a choked joy, as she raised her small wine cup high.

"cheers!"

Li Guihua excitedly echoed, raising her wine cup as well, her eyes shining.

"cheers!"

Yang Guanghui held Zhuangzhuang in his arms, using Zhuangzhuang's little hands to hold his small enamel bowl filled with cool boiled water, and shouted loudly along with him, his honest face full of smiles.

Yang Guangming solemnly picked up the full, spicy liquid in front of him with both hands.

Glass cups, coarse porcelain cups, white porcelain wine cups—several containers of different sizes and materials—collided gently yet powerfully under the dim yet warm light, amidst the rising steam of the tempting dishes and the rich aroma of wine and meat, carrying the hopes and joy of the whole family.

"Clang... Clang..."

The crisp or dull thud is like a joyful and perfect rest, temporarily bringing this difficult period to a close; it is more like a new movement full of infinite possibilities and hope, playing proudly in the symphony of life!

Yang Yongkang tilted his head back and, without hesitation, drank the spicy, hot, mellow liquid in his cup, which carried the power of time.

A fiery sensation burned from my throat straight to my stomach, bringing a hot yet comforting warmth that instantly dispelled years of fatigue and accumulated gloom.

He exhaled a long, deep breath, and his brow, which had been furrowed like a rock for years, etched with the hardships and silence of life, relaxed completely and as never before, soothed by the alcohol and this immense joy.

The suppressed curve at the corner of his mouth finally transformed into a clear, almost relaxed smile, radiating a satisfied glow—the smile of a truly joyful father.

That smile, like the sun breaking through the clouds, illuminated his weathered face!
Zhang Xiuying also drank the wine in her cup in a hearty manner.

The spiciness made her smack her lips and fan herself with her hand, but tears of joy welled up in the corners of her eyes.

She picked up her chopsticks and, with a steady hand, placed the first trembling piece of braised pork hock, coated in thick sauce and glistening with tempting oil, into Yang Guangming's bowl, carrying all of her mother's love and pride.

"Mingming, eat! Eat more! You're the biggest hero in our family today! This piece is top-notch!"

Yang Guangming stared at the trembling, glistening, and irresistibly tempting pork hock in the bowl.

He picked it up and put it in his mouth.

Gently bite through the chewy, gelatinous skin with your teeth, and the rich fat melts gently on your tongue, bringing ultimate satisfaction.
The tender, flavorful lean meat fibers are soaked with rich sauce;
The complex salty, savory, sweet, and aromatic flavors, combined with the lingering, intense sweetness in the mouth after drinking Qibao Daqu, intertwine, entwine, and explode in the mouth...

This flavor is so intoxicating that it transcends the food itself!
Outside the window, the Shikumen alleyway was completely submerged in the deep, sultry summer night.

Only a few scattered lights stubbornly flickered in the thick darkness, like fireflies.

But in this small, cramped front building of the Yang family home, the orange glow emitted by the 15-watt incandescent light bulb seemed particularly warm, bright, and powerful.

Laughter, the gentle clinking of bowls and chopsticks, satisfied chewing and sighs, all mingled with the rich aroma of braised duck, the succulent pork hock, the fragrant scrambled eggs, the refreshing bok choy, the sweet wheat flavor of steamed buns, and the lingering, subtle melody of Qibao Daqu (a type of folk opera).
Strands of smoke seeped through the cracks in the old door panels and through the window lattices covered with newspaper.

The aromas of food and the smell of coal smoke wafted from every household in the alleyway.

It became a brief yet incredibly real melody of everyday life in the summer nights of Shanghai, belonging to ordinary families.

The overhead lights elongated the close-knit silhouettes of the family sitting together, casting them onto the mottled, yellowed wall, where they swayed, intertwined, and merged, like a warm silhouette painting.

The empty, dark brown bottle of Qibao Daqu liquor stood quietly on the corner of the table.

The dusty label on the bottle reflected a faint light under the flickering lamplight, like a silent and loyal witness, gazing upon this Shikumen family who had just experienced the pain of separation last year and were now welcoming a leap in their destiny.

Hope, like the flickering lamplight overhead, like the rare, relaxed smile on Yang Yongkang's face, like the steady and bright light in Yang Guangming's eyes, burned and pulsed with difficulty yet unwavering determination in this small space.

It may be faint, but it persistently illuminates the small space beneath our feet!
(End of this chapter)